Roller Coaster

We just got back from a family vacation to Orlando and Walt Disney World. One of the highlights for me (and Andrew too, I think) was taking Andrew on his first roller coaster ride. For those of you that know Disney, it was The Barnstormer over in Mickey's Toon Town.

Here's what he said right after the end of the first ride:

And so we went one more time and sat in the front seat!

We had such a great time, and I can't wait to go back in a few years when Andrew is tall enough to ride more of the roller coasters and thrill rides.

Roadside "Emergency"

We took a quick road trip on Saturday to visit some family. It’s about a two hour drive for us. We were about thirty miles from our destination when Andrew said, “I have to go pee-pee.” Now this was a real problem because the second half of the trip is almost entirely through rural Illinois. And by rural, I mean two-lane highway with a 55 mph speed limit and corn fields and farms on both sides of the road. We were nowhere near a bathroom. So we asked Andrew to hold on for just a second. He then smiled and said, “You’re going to have to change me.” It was almost as if he saw the panic in our eyes and wanted to have a little fun with us.

Susie was driving and made a quick right turn from the country highway to a country road. We pulled over to the side of the road, threw on the flashers, and grabbed Andrew out of his seat. And we stood in the grass on the side of the road while Andrew took care of business. Ah, thank goodness for little boys. (It was funny because I told my dad this story later that day, and he said that he had a regular "pit stop" on the side of the road that we used to make on every trip back and forth to my grandparents.)

This wasn’t the first time that we needed to improvise with the bathroom for Andrew although we try not to make a habit of it. Last week, Andrew tried to do the same thing while playing in the neighbor’s front yard. We got to a real bathroom that time.

Brushing Teeth

I’ve been thinking recently about resurrecting this blog and trying to get back in the habit of posting. It’s been a very stressful two months, and it might give me a good creative outlet. I can’t always guarantee the creativity, but at least it can be an outlet. Another reason is that Andrew turned three at the end of May, and I want to make sure that I continue to capture the explosions of learning and personality. And I think those things are best captured in some of the small (sometimes mundane) things that make me smile…like brushing teeth.

Every night after his bath, I bundle Andrew up in his Lightning McQueen robe and grab his toothbrush (either Chick Hicks or Big Bird). I load it up with toothpaste (either blue Pooh and Friends or pink Disney Princesses). Then he usually climbs up on my lap and we start this exchange:

Andrew: Dad, there’s some baby animals in my mouth.

Me: I know.

Andrew: There’s a baby elephant in there. Don’t brush him away. Just brush his teeth.

Then he usually holds the toothbrush with me, opens his mouth, and makes baby elephant noises while we brush little. The second animal is always a baby crocodile. He opens up again, and the toothbrush gets “chomped” several times while we get more brushing done. The first two animals are the only ones that are set. After that, we have several options. We go to monkeys, dogs, bears, tigers, cats, and even a hippo. We added the hippo after a trip to the zoo where we got to hear their noises. They make a very deep and guttural bellow in case you were wondering. It usually takes us 4 or 5 animals a night to finish brushing the teeth. I can’t tell you exactly how we got to this routine, but I do know that it evolved over time through the difficulty and frustration that comes with trying to brush a two-year old’s teeth. I’m not sure how long we will keep it up, but it’s load of fun right now and definitely something that I want to remember because of the way it captures the playfulness and fun of Andrew’s personality.

After all the brushing, we do a quick rinse and mirror check, and start to make our way out of the bathroom. And many nights at this point Andrew turns to me, pumps his fist in the air, and says, “Now I get to have ice cream!” And we often do.